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Lax Snacks

There’s something happ’ning at the Grange

It’s quite bizarre, it’s rather strange

Our generous host has gone quite lax

When it comes to simple snacks.

His Golden Wonders are just not

His Walkers fail to hit the spot.

The onion’s cheese is too mature

The beef was old in days of yore

The chicken’s flown the barbecue

The cocktailed prawn is far from new

There’s even salt in small blue twist

With origins in times of mist.

“These crisps ain’t crisp!” his guests exclaim

And quickly find just what's to blame.

Inspecting the offending pack

Printed plainly on the back

They see a date from long ago

Telling all who need to know

These bags are not the freshest sort

Ever seen near Ashton Court.

The sell-by dates have just flown by

But one can guess the reason why.

Though some may like a little nibble

H prefers his daily tipple.







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